Tick Tock Goes the Clock
by Darkfire25
Summary: There is a serial rapist in Santa Barbara. Dectective Lassiter must find this sicko before others get raped and killed too. Can he do it in time? And who knew Shawn was so affected by this... Rated M to be safe. NO Slash! WARNING: Dark themes, Shawn!Whump, more warnings will be posted in chapter if needed
1. Chapter 1

Henry Spencer shoved the front doors of the SBPD open in obvious fury. He stomped through the busy station, turning more than a few eyes his way. The officers and various other employees in the department had grown accustomed to a light-hearted, scene making Spencer.

_Shawn_ Spencer.

Not the scary, fire in eyes, older Spencer that slammed through their doors.

"Karen! I demand to know what the hell happened here!" Henry yelled to the Chief, who had noticed his entrance and came to meet him. She stopped in front of the older man, rubbing her temples as if she was trying to eradicate a headache that had yet to make its full entrance.

"Henry, I assure you nothing has happened here." She stated very clearly. Henry rolled his eyes angrily, obviously not believing her.

"Karen, I just saw Shawn. Gus had to drop him off at my place. He is beside himself. I thought I told you to not let him anywhere near this case! What the hell happened?!" He shouted. At that moment, Carlton Lassiter had come around to the corner.

"Chief, we have a lead on our suspect." He informed her.

They had been working on a case: a serial rapist. He had no type. There were four victims. Seventeen year-old Marie Aimadae, thirty-three year-old, James Hinder, twelve year-old John Perce, and twenty-seven Jamie Orwell. No relations, nothing in common, these people were completely random. Henry whirled around to face the lanky detective.

"What did you say to Shawn?!" He growled dangerously; Lassiter's eyes widened in surprise. The detective may have the height advantage, but Henry's glares could make a blind stone cry.

"Nothing! We had come to a prime suspect and then Spencer just…shut down." Carlton explained to the seething man in front him. At the word "suspect", Henry's eyes widened.

"Your suspect wouldn't happen to be a man, about 49, tall and built, record, by the name of Paul Andrews." Henry asked; Karen's eyes widened at the name. Lassiter looked between the two and then responded.

"Yeah, how did you know?" Henry deflated, covering his face with his tan, calloused hand.

"Oh no, Oh Shawn. Come on, kid." He moaned. Karen looked a bit sick.

"Henry, I am so sorry. I-"

"You let him on the case! Saying sorry is not going to help Shawn!" Henry yelled. Karen looked down, looking truly ashamed. Lassiter stood, confused. Without another word, but with a horrifying glare, Henry stalked out of the Santa Barbra Police Department.

There was a heavy silence in the air. For a minute, everything was still and everyone held their breaths. The clocks ticked in the silence and soon the station was busy again.

"What is wrong with Spencer?" Carlton asked his Chief. Her blue eyes gazed at the door Henry left through.

"He is really worried about Shawn." She told him, but he shook his head.

"No, what is wrong with Shawn?" He asked. He noticed how awkward it felt to call Spencer by his first name. That seemed to snap the Chief back to reality.

"Privet business, Carlton." She replied, heading back to her office. Curiosity sparked in his chest. _Privet business?_ _What would Spencer have to hide?_ Carlton thought to himself. It seems he had some investigating to do.

**EARLIER**

Shawn Spencer waltzed into the SBPD, with a pineapple smoothie and Gus following behind him. He smiled his bright, white smile at the people he passed, wishing them good morning at one in the afternoon.

"Shawn, you know you're not permitted to be on this case. We're gonna get in trouble!" Gus told him. Shawn sighed dramatically.

"Gus, don't be a s'more that falls off the stick into the fire, we'll be fine." He replied. Gus rolled his eyes. He knew that these cases hit too close to home for Shawn. Gus was trying to be careful, but Shawn insisted he was treated like everyone else when it came to it.

"Lassie!" Shawn exclaimed, seeing the salt and pepper haired man sitting at his desk. Carlton's head snapped up in surprise before taking on a very annoyed look.

"What do you want, Spencer?" He growled.

"What do I want? Well, I really want to live in a pineapple so I can have an unlimited supply of deliciousness-"

"What do you want here, Spencer?!" Lassiter ground out. Shawn grinned.

"I've come to help you solve another case, of course." He explained as if it was obvious.

"Mr. Spencer, you are no way allowed near this case!" Called the Chief. The two buddies turned to face her.

"Why not?" Shawn whined, but, with the look he got, quickly shut his mouth.

"Shawn," She said softly "you know why." Gus saw his friend give a pissed off look before making his face neutral again. His fist clenched for a fraction of a second.

"I say I can, who says I can't?" He challenged. Karen sighed, praying for a cup of coffee.

"You're father called when he heard about the rapes on the new, making it clear he did not want you anywhere near them. I agree." She explained professionally. Shawn looked pissed again.

"What does my dad know? I haven't lived with him in fifteen years." Shawn spat out.

"Mr. Spencer." She warned before walking away. Shawn turned back to Lassiter, who was staring at him.

"What do you have, Lassie?" He asked, lunging for the file. Shawn, with speed Lassiter didn't know he possessed, grabbed the file and began reading it. The fake psychic's face scrunched in concentration.

"17, 33, 12, 27. Black, brunette, blonde, black. Girl, boy, boy, girl. Hmmm." Shawn mumbled to himself, reading through the information.

"Spencer! Give that back!" Lassiter ordered, coming around the wooden desk and snatching the case file back. Shawn stood stock still, frown plastered to his face, hazel eyes wide.

"Gus. I need to leave now. Gus. Gus. _Gus!_" Shawn frantically mumbled. Gus, fully aware of his friend's panicking, laid a hand on his shoulder. He had forgotten. Shawn flinched violently, a look of terror on his face.

"_Don't touch me!_" Shawn nearly screamed, breathing picking up a notched. Gus took a step back, hands surrendered in the air.

"Shawn, let's go. Okay?" Gus said gently. Lassiter stood in shock. What was wrong with Spencer? Shawn looked at Gus, seemingly understanding what had happened, and nodded. He slowly began to walk away, Gus helping and supporting him.

**NOW**

"Carlton, are you going home?" Juliet asked, stopping at aforementioned detective's desk. Lassiter looked up and stared blankly at her before shaking his head.

"Uh, no, I'm staying a bit longer. You go, O'Hara, I'm almost done." He replied. She smiled.

"You sure?" She asked. Her hands snaked up to remove her blonde hair from the bun it was trapped in. When let loose, her hair came tumbling down her shoulders.

"Yeah, go ahead." He insisted. She nodded and made her way to the exit.

Lassiter sat there, reading over the files he had found of Spencer, mulling it over in his mind. He didn't, couldn't, believe it. Who knew such a thing could happen to someone so Shawn?


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning came too early to Lassiter, but he still got up at 6am, with the sun just peeking through the horizon, to get to the department. He had a lot of work to do including: finding Paul Andrews, who seems to leave no trace behind. Carlton showered, ate, and drove to the SBPD in an hour. He sighed, grabbing a cup of coffee. It was October and the Santa Barbra heat had cooled only slightly. Everyone was getting ready for Halloween. Lassiter wanted this sicko behind bars before then.

About two hours and some paperwork later, bickering was heard through the station. Very familiar bickering. Lassiter held back the urge to roll his eyes.

"Shawn, you know I'm supposed to be watching you. That means I have to watch you, understand what that means?" Gus stated cynically. Shawn rubbed his face.

"Okay, one that's really creepy," At those words, Gus gave him a glare. "It does! Anyway, what that means you let me do what I want while you do whatever Gusses do when they do things. Hmm. Gusses, Gusi, many Gus?" Shawn rambled trying to find a version of Gus that would be plural.

"Hey, Lassie!" Shawn called out, leaving Gus to approach to Head Detective. Swallowing a mouthful of coffee, Lassiter thought back to the information he had dug up about Shawn. He scanned the fake-psychic's face, looking for the fear he had last time Carlton had saw him. Instead, he found exhausted hazel eyes.

"Spencer, what are you doing here?" He asked. Shawn sighed.

"Gus, here, thought today was a perfect day for running errands. He just-so-happened to be watching me at the moment, so he decided to take me, against my will, with him. I should file a kidnapping against him." Shawn explained.

"Oh, wait! Did you say Guster is watching you? As in babysitting?" Lassiter asked, and saw that amused glint in Shawn's eyes.

"Unless you want to instead, Lassie." He joked. Lassiter frowned.

"Shawn, be nice. I'm going to go get the check. Lassiter, watch him." Gus told them before heading to Chief Vic's office. Shawn watched him go, and he sighed when Gus shut the door behind him. Lassiter continued to stare at the younger man. Shawn's gaze whipped to face him, and he flinched when he saw Carlton staring at him.

"Why are you watching me?" Shawn asked…dare he say it? Nervously. Lassiter shook his head a fraction, getting himself out of his thoughts.

"I have to watch you. Remember what Guster told me?" He asked in a slightly mocking tone. He got up to refill his cup, but when he returned, Shawn was sitting in his chair.

"Spencer, what the hell! Get out of my chair!" Carlton ordered angrily. Shawn looked up at him.

"But Lassie, I'm tired." Shawn responded with such a dead voice, Lassiter almost didn't believe it even came from Shawn's mouth. He, again, did a visual scan of the fake-psychic. His hair was a bit messy, there were heavy bags under his green hazel eyes, his skin seemed paler, and he didn't smile that much. He wore a red and grey plaid shirt, unbuttoned, and a white shirt underneath. His jeans were not very tight, but not too lose, and he had a brown belt.

He wasn't sure what it was, but he softened for a moment. He let Spencer stay. Just then, O'Hara came up to him.

"Carlton! I think we may have- Shawn." She said as she noticed his presence. Shawn grinned weakly.

"Hey, Jules. Gus dropped me here, so he could to go see the Chief, with only Lassie to keep me company." He explained to her, and she smiled.

"Nice to see you to, Shawn. How are you?" She asked casually. He gave a huff.

"Tired," He answered her truthfully. "The one day I want to sleep in, Gus decides to get up all by himself and run errands. Bad part of that is: he is watching me while my dad is out, so I run errands too." Shawn told her, seemingly upset that he couldn't sleep.

"You don't always sleep in?" Lassiter asked, truly surprised by this revelation. Shawn nodded.

"I'm usually up by 6, if not, 5:30. Believe it or not, I'm the early riser." Shawn said. His jaw unhinged in a huge yawn, and he put one of his hands over his gaping mouth.

"You should get some coffee." Juliet responded.

"Spencer with coffee? The thought of that is a nightmare." Lassiter put in. Shawn nodded his head.

"Actually, He's right…kinda. Coffee gives me nightmares." Shawn informed them, settling into the chair more. He seemed self-cautious.

"Nightmares?" Jules said and Shawn only nodded. His attention turned back to the Head Detective, who was staring at him again. Shawn shifted uncomfortably.

"So, Jules, what are you up to?" Shawn asked, trying to avoid being the center of attention. Avoiding attention? That is not like Spencer. Carlton thought to himself.

"Sorry, Shawn, but you are not allowed near this case." Juliet informed him.

"Shawn!" Gus called, from the Chief's doorway. Shawn's eyes wrenched in that direction.

"Yeah?" He called out.

"How many cases did we do last month?" Gus asked.

"Six!" Shawn yelled back without thinking. He already knew the answer. The door was shut once again, Gus returning inside.

"Umm, Carlton, I'll check in with you later then. Bye Shawn." Juliet said, waving and walking away.

"Bye, Jules!" Shawn called out. Carlton cleared his throat.

"Spencer, can I. Can I asked you about something? Something privet?" He suddenly asked. He didn't miss the way Shawn's eyes widened in fear before returning back to his tired expression. Shawn's eyes glanced over to the closed door of the Chief's office and then to everywhere else in the station.

"Sure, Lassie. What can I do for you?" He replied, clearly uncomfortable.

"Its. It's about what happened when you were 15." Lassiter explained and all the color from Shawn's pale face left.

"W-what do ya mean? Nothing happened when I was 15. Well, besides that I got my permit, got my f-first job, and-"

"Spencer, I know what happened." Lassiter told him. Shawn stared at him with a horrified look in his green hazel eyes, that had tears building up and threatening to break free.

"It wasn't my fault." Shawn croaked brokenly.


	3. Chapter 3

"You know, we should talk in a place more, uh, privet." Lassiter suggested, looking around at the busy, people filled station. Shawn's green hazel eyes widened.

"Privet? W-why?" He asked, obviously terrified. Lassiter mentally slapped himself. _How could I be so stupid?_ He thought bitterly.

"Just to a place where we can't be overheard. Okay? I promise." He replied. Shawn seemed to understand and, forcing his tired body out of the Head Detective's comfy chair and onto less than steady feet, followed Lassiter through the station.

Carlton was surprised to find that Shawn had taken the lead and they had found themselves in the file room, which was deserted. Shawn let Lassiter in, and then he closed and locked the door behind him. Lassiter didn't miss the barely suppressed shiver that ran through the fake psychic.

"This place good?" Shawn, turning to face the older man, asked shakily. Carlton nodded in response. Shawn took a deep, wobbly breath.

"What do you know?" Shawn asked quietly, but, in the dead silence of the file room, it his voice seemed much louder, more darkened, and appeared to echo. Carlton inspected the younger man again. He seemed so…defeated. His eyes were dim, and his body slumped. Lassiter sighed. He wanted to be the one to ask questions, but it was obvious that Shawn wanted answers too.

"When and how did you meet Paul Andrews?" He countered, deciding to start at the beginning.

"A-at my first job." Shawn supplied._ He's going to be like this, huh? _Carlton thought.

"Which was…?" He prompted. Shawn, seeming to understand what it was he was initially doing, took a deep breath.

"Sorry," He said "At my first job, which was at a clothing department. It was a second-hand store, ya know? Anyway, he, Paul, was a, an employee there. He worked in the, the back. Storage and stuff." Shawn struggled to say. He rubbed his hand over his mouth and chin, a habit for when he was frustrated and nervous, and closed his eyes.

"Spencer, what happened?" Lassiter pried gently, but the real question hung in the air: _How did it happen?_ Lassiter winced when he heard how cruel and cold he sounded. Shawn, however, seemed unfazed by it. He looked Lassiter in the eyes with a clouded gaze.

"It was a Saturday night," Shawn told him suddenly, shattering the silence between them. "It was closing time, and it was my turn to lock up that night. Paul, he, he said he needed help. In the back. I, I was always uncomfortable around him. Always. But, but I was taught to help when someone needed it. I still can't believe I, I went with him." Shawn scolded himself; he paused, lost thoughts and memories of the past. Carlton stood there, unsure if Shawn was going to continue or not. He nearly jumped in surprise when Shawn began to speak again.

"Anyway, I went to help him. He, he lead me to the back room, he, he turned and locked the door. My head started screaming at me to, to get the hell outta there. I was, I was only 15, even with my dad's training, there was no way I could beat him," Carlton's eyes widened slightly at the word training, but he didn't dare interrupt Shawn's rambling. "I, I barely had to time to blink before I was on the ground. He had a height and weight advantage along with a surprise attack. He had tied my hands with rope. Scratchy, ruff rope that gave you scrapes and cuts from rubbing it or or just touching them." Lassiter noticed Shawn subconsciously rubbing at his wrist. Just then, Shawn slid down the wall, drew his knees to his chest, and hugged himself.

"He told me I had it coming," Shawn whispered. "I remember not understanding what he meant. He, he told me I was a whore and I wanted it. That I was going to. Going to beg for it. He, he kept saying IT! I was so scared and confused. He reached over and and touched my face." Tears began to cascade down Shawn's cheeks as his voice faded out, leaving the room in silence. He could feel Paul's big hands stroking his face almost lovingly. He fought the urge to gag.

**FLASHBACK**

Shawn lay there, shivering, covered in blood, saliva, and semen. He felt disgusting and used. Paul circled around him like a ravenous vulture would circle its prey.

"Please, please, let me go home!" Shawn pleaded. A cruel laugh rang through the small room.

"Why wouldn't I, sweetie?" He sneered. Shawn gave a sob and cried out when he got a swift kick to the stomach. Shawn tried to even his frantic breathing. Tears were pooling out of his eyes. He understood what happened, he understood the effects the…incident would have on him, and Shawn felt no hope in that moment.

"I wanna die." Shawn whispered brokenly. Paul grabbed Shawn's face and yanked it to meet his own.

"You wanna die? Well, too bad. You can't die because I want you to _live_. I want you to remember every minute of tonight. And, you know what, I think you _can_ remember everything that happened tonight. Can't you?" Paul growled into Shawn's face. Shawn's eyes grew wide.

"Just kill kill me!" Shawn begged. Paul chuckled and gathered his clothes.

"I refuse to kill you, my precious." He explained, zipping his light blue jeans. Paul turned to Shawn.

"Ever since I meet you, I knew you wanted me as much as I wanted you. I will admit, I never imagined getting this far. I thought you were scared of me. I was wrong. And you were beautiful, magnificent." Paul told Shawn, shutting the door and leaving the store.

When Shawn heard Paul's truck start and speed away, his brain began to think. Paul's words, sounds, smells, and touches were circling through his head, and he felt breathless. He supposed it was from the many kicks to his ribs. He looked the room. There were no windows, the walls and floor were cement, and there were 47 boxes lined up against the east wall. The door was in the north-east corner of the room, and his clothes were in the southern-west corner. He started to crawl, yeah his ribs were definitely broken, over to his crumpled clothing. The crawl was a bit painful, but he made it finally. He ripped through his clothes to find his sweatshirt, but a lump in his pants pocket caught his attention. His cell phone. He fumbled around trying to get it out of his pants pocket and then dialed Gus's number. He waited as the phone rang.

"Burton Guster." Was the answer.

"Gus? Its ummm its Shawn." He told his friend dumbly.

"Shawn! You were supposed to come over hours ago! We have to study for mid-term!" Gus yelled, obviously angry. Shawn could feel his emotions gaining a hold over his tired mind.

"G-Gus, I I I'm s-sorry! I was going to come but but…" Shawn couldn't say it. He couldn't admit it. He began to cry.

"Shawn, are you okay?" Gus asked softly. Concerned. Shawn took a moment to compose himself, while Gus made soothing sounds. When Shawn had calmed down enough, Gus asked again.

"Shawn, are you okay?"

"No. Gus, I I need you to help me." Shawn whispered desperately. All of Gus's internal alarms were going off, and he struggled to not panic.

"Shawn, where are you? Shawn!" Gus demanded. Shawn opened his eyes. _When did I close them?_ He thought to himself.

"Shawn!" Gus yelled, surprising Shawn, who jumped in fright. Shawn gave a squealed sob as pain flared in his damaged body.

"Oh my God, Shawn, are you hurt?" Gus asked, searching for his parent's keys.

"Yes, ohhh yes! G-Gus, it hurts!" Shawn gasped as the pain ran its course.

"Shawn, where the hell are you?!" Gus demanded. He rushed out the door, having found the keys. He didn't mind that it was raining and dark out. All that mattered was his best friend, his brother, was hurt and needed his help.

"'M at work." Shawn mumbled, words slurring horribly.

"Okay, Shawn, I'll be there in 10 minutes, Okay? I want you to stay awake and on the phone. Just keep talking." Gus explained, sounding calmer than he felt. He heard Shawn give a pained chuckle.

"Aren't you…the one always…telling me...to…shut up?" Shawn struggled to say between gasps.

"Shawn, what's wrong?" Gus asked, noticing how Shawn's breathing was getting worse. He heard a few bangs, swears, and whimpers.

"'M c-cold, so I'm putting on my jack-cket." Shawn explained in a voice that, if not filled with pain, held a tone of annoyance. Gus drove a little faster and he heard Shawn give a low moan.

"Sec'nd thought, maybe you sh-shouldn't come." Shawn told Gus.

"Why?" Gus responded worriedly.

"Too much blood. C'mon, Gus, we…we all know 'ow you," Shawn fell silent for a moment. Just sitting there, he breathed. "You won't be able to 'andle it."

"Shawn! Let's talk about something else. I'm almost there, okay?" Gus suggested. He heard a shaky sigh.

"Gus, 'M tired." Shawn whispered. Gus heard the phone drop, and his heart rate sky-rocketed.

"Shawn? Shawn?! Pick up the phone!" Gus shouted into his cell. He didn't get a response.

Gus felt like it took way longer to get the secondhand store, but, finally, he pulled into the empty parking lot. He didn't even bother to lock his parent's car, something he always told off Shawn about. _Shawn_. He raced into the store, pushing open the unlocked doors. He searched around the store, frantically trying to find his troubled friend. Not finding him, Gus began to panic.

"Shawn?" He shouted out, hoping that he would get a response. He knew he wouldn't; Shawn had clearly passed out on the phone. Gus's eyes widened and whipping put his cell phone; he pressed the numbers that made up Shawn's phone address. He waited as the rings followed each other then, taking his phone away from his ear, listened. The sound of Shawn's shrill ringtone filled the air, and Gus moved around to find where it originated from. He was lead to the counter, wait, the back room. Gus swallowed nervously, afraid of what he may find.

"Shawn?" He called softly, opening the door slowly. He gasped. He had found Shawn.

"Shawn!" He yelled, falling to his knees beside his fallen friend. His first thought was that there was a LOT of blood, and his first question was: where was it coming from? It was everywhere! He fought the urge to start gagging and run from the room. He took a look around the room and tensed at the clothes in the corner. Gus looked back to Shawn, who was curled up under his jacket.

"Shawn, you need to wake up." Gus told the still boy. Hazel eyes opened to meet Gus's brown eyes. They were bloodshot, and Gus could clearly see the panic in them before recognition shone in them.

"'us?" Shawn croaked.

"Yeah, Shawn, it's me." Gus reassured him. Shawn whimpered as he wriggled underneath his leather jacket.

"Tied." Shawn whispered to Gus, showing him his bleeding wrists that were tied with blood soaked rope. Gus closed his eyes for a moment.

"God, Shawn. What the hell happened?" He asked gently, working at the rope, trying not to lose his dinner.

"Please, G-Gus. Don't a-ask. Please, Please, Please-"

"Shawn, c'mon, man! It's fine, don't freak out. Breathe." Shawn wasn't even aware that he had started breathing in gasps, but, he could see, that Gus needed him not to freak out. Taking long, deep breaths, Shawn tried to figure out how to cure his aching throat. Gus finished fumbling around with the rope and Shawn's wrists were free.

"Can you stand?" Gus wondered. Shawn swiftly glanced down at himself and back up to meet Gus's watchful gaze. Tears gathered in his eyes as thoughts molested him. Touches, sounds, smells, and the pain. It still hurt.

"Yeah, I can stand." Shawn answered shakily, pulling himself up with much of Gus's help.

**END OF FLASHBACK**

**Thats it for now...sorry my computers been down, then being dumb, then i was busy. Ahh and i still hvae finals coming up. Hope you like it. I hope to update sooner next time, thanks!**


	4. Chapter 4

Frozen; similar to water in the winter when harshly exposed to the cold air. Shawn Spencer was frozen. He was trapped in his oh-so-brilliant mind. His memory replaying what information he had just revealed. Shawn forgot where he was and remembered where he had been. His soul trembling and his mind unforgiving, he didn't know why this had to happen to him. The clique question, but it meant so much. Asked so much. He couldn't go on with this any more. Wasn't that why he'd left Santa Barbra in the first place?

"Spencer?" Carlton called out, unsure if the physic was playing a sick joke or not. From the looks of it, he wasn't. Shawn sat there, eyes staring ahead. His face contorted into a look of pain and woe.

"Shawn?" He tried again with no such luck. The younger male was comatose. Carlton thought about what he should do, but, frankly, he had never been in this situation before. The comforting part of being a detective was O'Hara's side of the job. Looking around, he figured no one would come barging in, so he quickly left Shawn in search of Guster.

"Guster!" He called to the darker man, who looked as if he was looking for Shawn. Gus turned and, seeing Lassiter, started to him.

"Lassiter, where is Shawn?!" He asked. Carlton pointed to the room he left Shawn in.

"Guster, he's uhh frozen." Lassiter explained. Gus's eyes widened in worry, and he uncharacteristically shoved passed the nervous detective. Lassiter followed closely behind.

"Shawn? Can you hear me? It's Gus. You need to come out of your head, now." Gus spoke to him calmly. Carlton watched.

"Has he done this before?" Lassiter wondered. Gus took a minute to give him a glance of acknowledgment before whipping out his phone.

"Yeah, but that was a long time ago." Gus mumbled, dialing a number.

"oh" Lassiter responded dumbly. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't good with this type of thing.

"Mr. Spencer, it's me. Shawn's having an episode….no….at the station….Lassiter," Lassiter winced at hearing his name, "Okay, thank you." Gus spoke into the phone. He brought the device away from his ear.

"Henry on his way?" Lassiter asked, hoping the answer would be no.

"Yeah, luckily he was running some errands, so he is not that far away." They fell into a silence, welcomed by both men. Carlton stared at his feet while Gus kept an eye on Shawn. Then, Gus's gaze turned to the taller man.

"What were the two of you talking about?" He interrogated. Carlton's hands started to sweat. He shakily wiped them on his pants.

"We were talking about what happened when he was 15." He announced with more confidence than he really had. Gus down-right glared at him. Gus, the silly friend of Shawn Spencer, glared at him.

"You are a real jerk, Lassiter! Do you even realize how hard that was for him!? How hard it was to get him back on his feet?" Gus spat angrily. Gus somehow knew this would end badly, but Shawn hadn't had an episode in so long. With Gus's words hanging in the stale air, they fell into another silence. Gus constantly checking his phone for the time, Carlton left him be. Gus seemed to calm himself after a few moments.

"Gus!" Lassiter flinched at the sound of Henry Spencer's voice. Gus, however, hopped right up and called him into the now cramped room. Gus moved to the side so Henry could take his place. The older Spencer knelt down to his son's level to make eye contact.

"Shawn, you need to pay attention now," The older Spencer started, "You are in the police file room. You are not anywhere but there." He murmured to his son. Shawn seemed to breathe a long breath. He blinked. Then he went still once more.

"Come on, Shawn, we're right here. We're waiting for you." Henry told him gently. Carlton couldn't remember a time when Henry was so gentle. It unnerved him to think that Henry had to be this gentle with Shawn.

"Is he going to be okay?" Lassiter inquired, noting the strong hold this strange behavior had on Shawn. Henry didn't pay him any mind, instead focusing all his attention on Shawn. Gus, however, turned to him and took a breath. A quick glance from Henry, Gus began to speak.

"Shawn had these…episodes since he was uh attacked. He doesn't know when they happen or how, but we do know it's because of his way of remember what happened that night. I suppose you could say this is his form of PTS." Gus explained, glancing briefly at his best friend. Shawn continued to stare forward, although his eyes were less glassy. Lassiter stood there absolutely still and quiet as if mimicking Shawn's condition would snap the psychic out of his trance.

Shawn was pushed against the wall roughly. He clawed at the hands that were exploring more than he felt comfortable with. His breathing came in gasps, but he couldn't escape. What would his father think? All this training and he still wasn't good enough. His back hit the floor. He pushed himself into a corner…why did he do that? His hands were roughly yanked away. His dazed mind registered that they were being tied together. He struggled, but the rope cut his wrists from the pulling. He heard laughing. A deep chuckle vibrated through the small room, filling Shawn with absolute, soul-crushing dread. His eyes watered with unshed tears.

"You know, you had this coming," Paul taunted him, stepping closer, "Spencer…Shawn." Shawn blinked. That didn't sound like Paul. No, it sounded like an older, more uptight male. He couldn't focus on that know, though.

"What do you want from me?" Shawn whispered. Paul came closer.

"No, Shawn, this is about what you want. What you wanted all this time, you little whore. You want it don't you? You would _beg_ for it, wouldn't you?" Paul growled to him. Shawn was confused. It? What was it?

"Shawn? Can you hear me? It's Gus. You need to come out of your head, now." Wait. Was that Gus? No, Gus wasn't here. He…oh….he had to go to Gus's house tonight to study. Paul's dirty hands snapped him out of his thoughts by gently stroking Shawn's face. His body flinched backwards.

"Don't tough me!" He shrieked. Paul chuckled once again, the sound giving Shawn goose bumps.

"You're mine. I always knew you were." He snarled. He felt hands at his belt. Oh god, please! No! Shawn thought desperately.

"Shawn, you need to pay attention now. You are in the police file room. You are not anywhere but there." Shawn gave a cry. That was his father's voice, but where did it come from? What did he mean? His breathing picked up as air tickled his exposed skin. He forced himself to become calm again. A deep breath, he told himself.

"Come on, Shawn, we're right here. We're waiting for you." Henry's voice came again. Waiting for me? For me to do what? Shawn wondered. He heard his pants thump to the ground. He closed his eyes. _I'm not here. I'm not here. I'm NOT HERE!_

Shawn's lips began moving in a silent chant. He seemed to be saying the same thing over and over. Before Carlton could point it out, Henry noticed as well.

"Come, on Shawny. I'm right here! Open your eyes!" Henry insisted. He reached out and gently cupped his son's hands in his own. Shawn's mantra became clear.

"I'm not here, I'm not here, I'm not here." His voice growing in volume every time he spoke the three words. In a moment, Shawn's eyes flashed open, frantic and wide. He began to struggle, giving a terrified shout. Henry gingerly held tight while whispering soothing nonsense into Shawn's ears.

"D-dad?" Shawn whispered alarmed.

"Its okay, Shawny. I've got you." Henry replied, rubbing circled into his son's back and rocking him slightly. Shawn's hands gripped his father's shirt tightly, eyes closed. Lassiter looked at the scene before him. Shawn was such a good actor, but, sometimes, even he can't pretend he is okay.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey, I'm back! So, I put up last chapter after forever and I'm sorry! I'm gonna try and be better about that now. Reviews help motivate me! This is more of an investagation chapter, but there will be lots of Shawn in the next! This has a bit more searing than my other chapters, so uh yeah.**

Shawn's eyes closed and his breathing evened out as he fell victim to sleep. Henry continued to hold his only son all the while rubbing circles onto Shawn's back. Gus gazed at his resting friend with concern. Lassiter was numb. Was this his fault? No, all he did was ask a few questions. Right? Maybe he should have dug more into the original case file before interrogating Spencer. He sighed at his stupid mistake. His rookie mistake.

"Gus, help me get him to my car. I'm taking him home." Henry instructed. Gus nodded and jumped up. Henry leaned Shawn onto Gus while he got up, then together they picked Shawn up onto his feet. Slinging Shawn's limp arms over their shoulders, the two tried to make their way out the file room door.

"Here, let me help." Lassiter stumbled; he quickly held the door open for the three men. Henry didn't bother to acknowledge Lassiter's gesture, but Gus gave a short nod in appreciation. Carlton felt a gnawing feeling in his stomach. Was this guilt? Why would he feel guilty? He didn't bother to follow Gus and the Spencers. In fact, he didn't have much of a choice because his cell phone rang. He got a text. There had been another body.

The body of a 17 year old male was found in a park. Not a park where little kids ran around and slid down slides, but a nice open park with trees and trails. Lassiter looked at the crime scene, completely in detective mode. There were no drag marks, but there were…claw marks. A sign of an attempted escape. Just like Spencer. He shook his head. No clouded judgment, he told himself, focus. There were a few bloody footprints, and he called forensics over to check them out.

"What's the info, O'Hara?" He asked, joining with his partner. She sighed, her grey suit seemingly dull and body slumped.

"Okay, well, this is Joey Parker. He was supposed to be out on a date with his girlfriend…uhhh Rose Sparks. He never showed. He works in a diner, good grades, liked by his peers," Juliet stopped, flipping through her notes, "Just a victim of opportunity, I suppose. It was late, the Vic was alone, and Andrews was feeling lucky."

"Sick bastard." Carlton muttered to himself. He turned his attention to the body. The boy's wrists were tied with ruff rope, clothes just outside of his reach, body bloody, and he was covered in mud and other substances. His dark hair was bloody and stuck to his face, blue-green eyes dulled and lifeless. His face forever stuck into a look of pure horror and agony. Would Spencer have looked this way?

"Carlton, we should go talk to the families." Juliet told him. He looked at her, and he knew she was think about Spencer too. He nodded.

"I'm sorry for your loss, but we have to ask you a few questions. Is that okay Mrs. Parkers?" O'Hara started out. The 41 year old women looked at the two detectives with red, bloodshot eyes. Her little frame was wrapped and consumed in a long, black wool overcoat. Mrs. Parker nodded jerkily, stepping aside to let the two in.

"He…he was such a good person. I, I don't know how or why this could happen!" She exclaimed tearfully. Juliet moved to her side and gave her a small hug.

"I know. This is a really terrible thing to have happen. But we are going to find the guy who did this and put him behind bars." She assured the grieving mother. She carefully led the woman to her couch, and Juliet pulled out her small notebook.

"Has your son been behaving differently lately? Did he look nervous or anxious?" O'Hara asked. Mrs. Parker took a minute to think.

"He hasn't been going out as much as he usually does, but he said he was busy. Why?" She responded, looking fearfully at the two. Carlton and Juliet exchanged a glance before Carlton cleared his throat.

"Has your son mentioned anything about someone he didn't feel comfortable with or maybe someone who has been following him?" Lassiter questioned. Mrs. Parker's gaze left O'Hara and settled on to him.

"Yes, umm. His co-worker. Joey tells me-told me that his co-worker is a bit on the strange side. He's old, but built. And he uh he seemed to get a bit too close. You, you don't think it was him, do you?" She asked. The detectives shared another glance.

"What was his name?" Lassiter asked, feeling he already knew the answer.

"Paul Andrews, I think."

Lassiter raced back to the station, thanking God he was a cop because he broke a LOT of traffic laws. Paul Andrews was one sick, twisted SOB. Getting close before going for the kill! He made Lassiter sick. Was that the same with the other victims? He had sent O'Hara to find out, but he was headed for the station. He knew that Paul Andrews had a file. He should have dug deeper into it. Cursing his own stupidity, he hurried back into the station.

Storming into the station, he marched right to his desk and took a seat. Digging through his records and papers, he found Paul Andrews. Age: 49 Height: 6'2 Weight: 180. Okay, big guy. Convicted for: attempted rape and murder. Ah! That was what he was looking for, but his wife? How did this man go from attempted rape on his wife to rape on kids? Sick bastard. He looked at the wife's record. Small, fragile woman who was from a stable home, and she had met him at…work. Thank sweet Justice! A pattern. A pattern means a lead, and that means there is a way to find this son of a bitch! Although, with a pattern, new questions arose that Lassiter didn't even want to begin with. Lassiter thought for a brief moment. Now would be the best time to have Spencer come in with one of his psychic fits, but miraculously tilt them in the right direction. Only, this time, he was on his own. He hated to admit this, but he had good detective skills, but sometimes that wasn't enough.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry that it is so short, but I wanted to get something out this weekend. This chapter has a few swears at the end, just a warning. I think we know that I don't own anything. Reviews are helpfull and make me happy!**

Carlton Lassiter huffed to himself in annoyance. He had been searching and digging through case files for hours know but he only stared at the same useless information. There had to be some reason for Paul Andrews to get a job and stalk his victims at their workplace. Was it some sick fetish of his, or was there a reason? He skimmed through Marie Aimadae's file for what seemed to be the millionth time. She worked at a typical restaurant with semi-decent food, uncomfortable chairs, and a loud atmosphere. It even had a not-so-great name: Hungry Boy. Flipping through the pages, he noticed a lack of evidence from the restaurant itself. The evidence included footprints, fingerprints, hairs, other bodily fluids, and various pictures and witness statements. Although, there was little to no evidence connecting to the restaurant Aimadae worked at. Carlton searched for video evidence and found none. Reading the report, he learned that the Hungry Boy lacked security. There were no cameras at all. Lassiter wondered if Shawn's second-hand store had any security. If it did, he would have better clues, and then hopefully, he would have another lead.

The detective stealthily glanced around the room before sneaking into the Santa Barbra Police file room. The same one that Spencer had his episode in, he thought to himself. Digging through years of files and boxes, he once again located Spencer's file. He took everything this time; he took the evidence, the file, and the…video. There was a video. Grabbing the box, he went straight to his car. His baby. It being 7 o'clock, he figured he could leave a bit early and work from home. He loaded the box into the back seat and was home in no time at all. Making sure he had his jacket, gun, and the box, he made his way into the apartment. After putting the video in, he sat down and pressed play.

* * *

The screen flickered to life only to show a young, red-eyed Shawn Spencer. His framed shivered, his eyes were wide, he looked uncomfortable, and he looked hurt. He looked broken. He was seated in an interrogation room. The walls were grey, room cold, and seats hard.

"State your name and what happened." A gruff voice from off camera demanded; it was a male's voice with a sense of importance and purpose. Lassiter knew that voice, but couldn't place it. Shawn's attention was drawn away from his own lap to look to where the voice was most-likely sitting.

"Uh, S-Shawn Spencer." Shawn replied quietly. His shaking arms curled around his torso as if he was trying to hold himself. Shawn swallowed convulsively.

"What happened?" The voice asked, but from his tone, the man already knew and all this was for the sake of the video. Shawn gave the man a pained expression.

"I, I was…attacked." Shawn told him, his voice decreasing in volume. His gaze found his lap again.

"Shawn, you know that is not all that happened." The voice explained to him in a prompting way. Lassiter knew that voice. It was the one and only Henry Spencer. At this statement, Shawn's eyes flew back up to his father. The younger man's hands wrung together with his increasing distress.

"D-Dad. I, I don't…"Shawn started but fell silent. Lassiter assumed the silence was brought on by a glare from the voice, now confirmed as Henry.

"Shawn, just tell the story." Henry told his son, with a tired voice. Shawn closed his eyes.

"I. I was raped." Shawn whispered so quietly that Carlton almost didn't hear him. Shawn's trembling increased tenfold, and his eyes shot open wide. Lassiter knew that haunted look. It was the look a victim's face morphed into the life-changing moment where they truly realized what they went through. A look that appeared when they understand just what happened, what they've gone through, and what they would have to deal with forever; the shocking realization of a burden being dropped into their shoulders. It was a broken, hopeless look, and Carlton never, ever thought he would see such a look on the face of Shawn Spencer.

The video stopped and started in a new place, but it was still in the interrogation room. Lassiter guessed they stopped to calm Shawn down. Shawn showed up in the view again. He was slumped over, hair was a mess, tear tracks visible down his face, and had circle under his eyes. His smaller frame still shivered and his arms still held him. Lassiter had never seen Shawn look so helpless. He never looked like this, not during the Yin/Yang incident and not even during his kidnap. Henry said something, but Lassiter missed it during his thoughts. He saw Shawn's dead eyes become darker.

"I'm Shawn Spencer, case 2256839, and I was attacked and raped by a co-worker by the name of Paul Andrews. And I'm still fucking breathing." Shawn growled with such malice in his voice, he scared Lassiter. There was a heavy silence in the air.

"Shawn." Henry began, but Shawn cut him off.

"No! If all you care about is finding the bastard, then I don't care! I don't want to see his face ever again. But, Dad," Shawn spat the word dad like a curse, "I still see him! Every time I close my eyes! I remember everything! You know that I do! And guess what, Dad! There were three hats in the room!" Shawn exploded, before getting up, pushing the chair over, and marching out of the camera's view. The interrogation room door slammed shut. The air became silent again before a sigh was heard and the camera shut off.

Before anymore of the video could be seen, Lassiter shut it off. It was too much.


	7. Chapter 7

Lassiter stood nervously in front of Henry Spencer's front door, fist hung limply in the air. Fixing his suit jacket for the eleventh time in five minutes, he swallowed convulsively. He wanted to ask some questions that would hopefully help him find the answers he needed. He wanted this sicko behind bars as soon as possible. Taking of breath, he knocked on the wooden door. This was just like talking to a victim. But, it's not just a victim, its Spencer, he thought. Speak of the devil; Shawn Spencer swung open the door, revealing himself. Lassiter let his eyes sweep over the younger male. He noticed that Shawn seemed to be lacking sleep courtesy of the dark circles under his eyes. Shawn's perfect hair was slightly askew, but Lassiter observed that Shawn had his mask on. If that was how he wanted to play it, it was fine by Lassie. Things were getting rather personal between the two, and Lassiter found that the more he knew about Shawn's past the less he knew about the Shawn in the present. And honestly, he didn't like not knowing.

"Lassie! What do I owe the fine pleasure?" Shawn exclaimed with a fake cheeriness in his voice.

"Hello, Spencer." He mumbled in reply. Shawn's eyes widened for a fraction.

"Why are my manners? Come on in, sorry." He told him, standing aside so Lassiter could enter the white house. Lassiter nodded his thanks and followed Shawn into the living room. He noticed how clean it was. He reminded himself that this was Henry Spencer's house, not Shawn's.

"Is Henry home?" Lassiter asked. Shawn opened his mouth to reply right as Henry's voice filtered into the room.

"Shawn?! Who was at the door?" Henry called. Not a minute later, the older Spencer came walking into the room. Upon seeing Lassiter, he stopped. "What do you want?" He growled.

Carlton did not fail to see the look of protectiveness that dominated Henry's facial features. He understood that last time he was with Spencer he had sent him into some sort of fit, but how was he supposed to know that would happen? He was ready to start fresh, and Carlton hoped Henry was ready as well.

"I wanted to ask a few questions." Lassiter responded in his professional voice. Henry glared, seemingly caught between his inner cop and his fatherly instinct. A tense silence settled over the three. Lassiter stood there, wondering if he was going to get cooperation out of Henry. "You can both sit down and answer the questions together." He added, hoping to persuade the protective father.

"I'm cool with it. Unless it gets to personal." Shawn agreed wearily, sinking down onto the couch with a sigh. Henry's glare left Lassiter and flew to his son, softening to a look of concern.

"Are you sure, kiddo?" Shawn waved him off. Lassiter assumed it was because Henry had grown to be a bit over-protecting over the past week or so. The two made themselves comfortable on the couch as well. Lassiter did one last once over on Shawn. He seemed to be okay with it. His clothes were wrinkled, and he seemed tired. Only Carlton had never seen a man look so tired with only his eyes. Clearing his throat and taking out his notepad, he began.

"At this second-hand store, were there any video cameras, security systems, or any form of surveillance?" He needed this to confirm his theory with the rest of the victims…and Spencer.

"No, none." Shawn responded.

"Do you have any idea on why he chose to follow co-workers? In such an open place? Or why he chose to follow you?" Lassiter asked. Shawn looked mildly uncomfortable with the question before a look of thoughtfulness overcame his face.

"No, I don't."

Did he say anything to you that could help us find him? Anything at all? It could have been during work, break, the incident, anything?" Lassiter asked slowly. Shawn's eyebrows knitted together

"_Hello, I'm Paul Andrews. It is great to meet you!"_

"_Hey, Shawn?! Can you help me in back?"_

"_Ya know, you were always my favorite co-worker! I owe you!"_

"_I want you to remember every minute of tonight."_

"_I knew you wanted me as much as I wanted you."_

"Can I get back to you on that?" Shawn finally answered after being eerily quiet. He seemed to be a bit distracted. Lassiter thought he was holding back, but he'll let slide.

"Uh, sure of course. Can you think of any reason Paul Andrews would start claiming victims again?" Carlton inquired. Shawn gave a small smile.

"Do you need my psychic powers to help you out, Lassie?" He joked half-heartedly.

"Shawn." Henry warned, but was promptly ignored.

"Not that I'm surprised. I just knew you wouldn't last without me." Shawn rambled. He then became sober again. His gaze found his hands interesting as the wrung together. "But, uh, no. I don't have a clue, Lassie."

"You don't need to know why, anyway." Henry pointed out, a little unsure of himself and what to say.

"Do you still remember all of it?" His tone of voice matching a five year-old's. Lassiter knew this was not the right thing to say, but it flew out of his mouth before he could stop it. Shawn must have sensed his child-like curiosity, and he smiled a sad, old hearted smile.

"Shawn, you don't have to answer that. He was just being a dumbass." Henry growled.

"No, no, it's okay. Yes, I do. I can remember every second," Shawn's eyes grew distant and slightly darker. "I can remember that he was a dirty kind of guy. Like the kind of guy who didn't take a shower in forever. He smelled horrible. Like a sewer. And his hands were huge and…rough. He was strong though. Ugh, and his voice was deep, but not overly deep. And he always wore jeans with a plain colored t-shirt. Like red…I remember…" He trailed off, blinking.

"Shawn?" Henry called softly, worry evading his voice. Shawn shook his head like a wet puppy.

"Sorry." He mumbled. Lassiter nodded but a spark flew into his head.

"He smelled like a sewer?" Lassiter asked, and Shawn nodded.

"Like he had been dipped in one…repeatedly." Shawn's eyes lit up. "You don't think?"

"Yes, I do think." Lassiter said standing up, and grabbing his phone. "I'll call O'Hara, and I'll talk to you later." Shawn stood up.

"I wanna go." He claimed forcefully. Staring into Lassiter's eyes challengingly. Henry rose to stand next to his son.

"Shawn, I don't think-"

"I need to grow past this! I need to help, Dad! I'm done playing the victim! I'm not even getting enough hot women for playing the victim! I need the closure! Dad, I'm ready to find this bastard and put him behind bars" He explained. Lassiter nodded. If Spencer was ready, he was welcome. Shawn Spencer was on the case.

**Hey, I was thinking of having Lassiter learning that Shawn is not psyhic, but I'm not sure. What do ya think? Leave a review for what you think of my chapter and what i should do! Love ya! XD**


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